


For the Sake of Our Friendship

by loving-the-stars-themselves (youandmeotp)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, He also likes having his hair pulled, In which they really try to be "fair" to each other, Missy enjoys being a woman immensely, Orgasm Delay, Piano Sex, Twelve tries to feel feelings and Missy shuts him down, Vault Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 02:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12496044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youandmeotp/pseuds/loving-the-stars-themselves
Summary: In an attempt to curb her boredom in the vault, Missy convinces the Doctor to have sex with her.





	For the Sake of Our Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is kind of a prequel to Staying, For Now, in a way. It wasn't originally intended to be, but the ending alludes to that story. Anyway, I've been craving Twissy sex for a while now, and decided to write some for myself. Hope you enjoy!

“What are you waiting for?”

The Doctor has suddenly gotten cold feet. He doesn’t remember how Missy roped him into this, but he’s definitely having second thoughts. He stands with his back pressed against the door, just having double-checked the locks and soundproofing at Missy’s command.

Missy is draped over the grand piano in the center of the room. The Doctor has always found that to be one of the single most arousing sights in all of time and space, and he’d had to fight the dizziness she induced just to walk over to the door. Now, Missy’s eyes are locked on his as she slowly drags the edge of her skirt up her leg, exposing more and more of her sheer black stocking and just a strip of her porcelain thigh before she stops.

“Are you planning to just stand there all day?” She sits up abruptly, dropping the skirt and crossing her legs. “Because you know I have several other ways I could occupying my time. Maybe I should just—” Missy begins to push herself up and off the piano.

“No!” the Doctor exclaims, breaking his invisible bond to the wall and rushing forward. “I mean, no,” he says more softly, regaining his composure. Missy settles back. He takes her folded hands in his own. “Missy...you don’t even know how much I want you,” he tells her, undeniable sincerity in his voice. “I’m just...I don’t know what to expect.”

A smirk flashes across Missy’s face. “What, because I’m a woman now? You think that’s going to make any difference?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” the Doctor mumbles, at once feeling foolish.

Missy uncrosses her legs and pulls him in closer between them. “Oh, Theta,” she purrs. “Don’t you know? No matter what body I’m in, I will always be able to _fuck_ you so hard you can’t move the next day.” She bites her lip deliciously when she says the word “fuck,” and the Doctor’s knees go weak, forcing him to clutch onto her hands even tighter to remain upright. She narrows her eyes at him, tilting her head the slightest bit. “What do you think?”

No matter how many apprehensions the Doctor may still have, they can’t outweigh the desperate need for release that has monopolized his body. “Okay,” he consents almost inaudibly.

“Sorry, what was that?” Missy mocks him. A hand toys with the top button of her pressed blouse, and the Doctor can’t repress his desire to find out what lays beneath.

“Have sex with me, Koschei. It’s been too long. I need your body.”

“That’s more like it,” Missy praises him.

She shrugs off her jacket and leisurely begins to unbutton her top. A grumble of discontent escapes his chest at how gradually things are moving. “Oh, so you think you’re going to tease me like that and then get to take up all the time in the world, do you?” the Doctor says roughly, having regained some confidence. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re going my speed.”

He deftly undoes the rest of her buttons and slides the shirt off her shoulders, throwing it across the room to who cares where. He runs his hands along her arms and chest, and realizes her skin is unbelievably soft, prompting him to trace circles back over all the places he’s already touched. Not only that, but she’s much smaller than she always seems, without the advantage of her heels and the height of her hair. She could practically disappear inside that enormous skirt of hers. He can hardly believe this is the Master he’s always known, when she seems so delicate.

“I can hear what you’re thinking, and I don’t like it,” Missy says with a frown. The Doctor continues to explore her upper body undeterred, dipping his fingers down the front of her corset and running them over her already erect nipples. Goosebumps pop up on the surrounding flesh and he trails kisses down her cleavage.

“Looks like you like something, though,” the Doctor taunts her.

“Shut up,” she replies breathily. She pushes him down onto his knees and hops off the piano in front of him. “Take off my corset. And my skirt,” she orders, and the Doctor does as he is told, working swiftly to discard the obstructing fabric, running his hands over her now-exposed breasts as he does.

“Oh, fucking hell,” he rasps, taking in the sight before him. Missy lying sensually on the piano has dropped on his list of most erotic things, to be replaced by Missy standing in front of him with no panties, her black, lacy garter belt snug around her curved hips, and her bare cunt level with his face. “You naughty girl,” he says, tracing his fingertips along the lines where her hips meet her thighs.

“I didn’t think I’d need them today. Right as always.”

The Doctor would normally come up with a witty retort, but the musky aroma emanating from between her legs makes his mind go blank. He slips one hand down to her core and trails it through the wetness, provoking a theatrical moan from Missy. “ _Oh_ , Theta, that feels heavenly!” she cries. “I can’t wait until you’re a woman as well someday. That’ll be _loads_ of fun.”

The Doctor’s attention is quickly drawn back to the building tightness low in his abdomen. He presses the palm of his free hand against his groin, rutting his hips against it in hope of some relief. But he needs more. “Let me fuck you. I need you,” he begs.

“Ah ah ah,” Missy chides. “Where are your manners? A gentleman always eats his lover out before looking to indulge himself.”

“Oh, and I suppose that’s what you did with your little wife in your last body?”

Missy scoffs. “Of course not. But when was I ever a gentleman?” She grabs a handful of his silver hair and pulls his head between her legs, leaning back against the piano.

“Mmmph,” the Doctor groans, lapping eagerly at her dripping cunt. This is a new taste, and one he’s learning to like a lot. She lurches above him, and he feels more of her weight resting on him. He latches his hands tightly onto her hips to keep her stable, digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises. She continues to grind on his face with abandon, releasing small whimpers every time her clit passes over the flat of his tongue.

“Oh, just like that, Doctor, don’t stop, ohh, keep going,” Missy wails, tugging harder on his hair. The Doctor savors the sharp pain of the pull. She slings one leg over his shoulder to give him better access, and he gladly obliges.

Still keeping his grip with one hand, the other one ventures back down her slit and probes at her entrance. “Yes, put your fingers in me,” Missy encourages him. She arches her back up and he slicks up his fingers in her juices. He slips two deep inside her with no warning, and she gasps. As the Doctor works up a steady rhythm with his fingers, he goes back to tonguing her nub, tracing Old High Gallifreyan into her swollen flesh.

“Another,” Missy demands, and the Doctor pushes a third finger into her. Her walls clench tightly around the new thickness, and the Doctor’s hardness twitches in his trousers as he imagines it being buried deep where his fingers are.

Her breasts bounce as she rides on his fingers, and the Doctor inwardly laments that he doesn’t have enough hands to play with them while he fucks her with her fingers and holds onto her hips. Maybe next regeneration… This whole time, Missy keeps a firm hold on his head, making sure he retains the ability to torture her luxuriously with his mouth.

“Oh, oh!” Missy’s shouts echo off the walls, rising in pitch every time. “Yes, right there, that’s it. Oh, I’m gonna—”

Missy’s grip on his head has loosened as she succumbs to her rapture. The Doctor, however, notices this and withdraws, and Missy is jerked back to reality from her impending orgasm. “What the hell?” she snaps. “I was so close.”

“Not without me,” he says insistently.

“Fine, then, hurry along.” She rolls her eyes and perches herself back on the edge of the piano, wetness still leaking off her sex.

The Doctor strips off all his clothes in a frenzy and drops them into a pile. He leaves on only his socks. “Are you not going to take those off?” Missy inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Well you’ve left these on,” he says, stroking his hands along her stockings, “so I thought I’d keep it even.”

“It’s diff—oh, bugger, it doesn’t matter.” Missy taps the space beside her on the piano lid.

The Doctor hesitates. “Are you sure it’ll hold both of us?”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? Come on, let’s go,” she says, like she’s urging on a little puppy. She bends her knees and spreads her legs and the Doctor instantly forgets about his apprehensions.

He clambers up onto the sleek black wood, and Missy pulls him in unceremoniously by the back of the neck for a kiss. Her mouth is warm and wet like another part of her body, and something stirs deep in the Doctor’s belly when he realizes how turned on she is from tasting herself on his lips. She lifts her hips greedily, trying to find purchase against his thigh between her legs. His tongue probes against her lips and she grants him access, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Her hands roam up and down his spine, feeling the ripples through his back muscles and scraping at the skin with her sharp nails.

“Mmm, you kiss like you always have, Koschei,” the Doctor murmurs, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed that.”

She nuzzles against his nose. “Stop being sentimental and get me off.”

“You’re my oldest friend in the universe,” the Doctor continues. “How could I not be at least a little sentimental about that?” He lowers himself and rocks his hips against her leg, but more than he relishes the stimulation to his groin, he cherishes the feeling of closeness to her.

“If you keep up this lollygagging, you won’t have a friend to be sentimental over any longer.” She once again intertwines her tongue with his, reaching down to languidly stroke his rock hard length.

The Doctor half-growls deep in his chest. “Then I suppose for the sake of our friendship, I must—” He shifts forward, taking himself in hand, and rubs his tip up and down her slit. “What was it you wanted, Missy?” he asks, with a glint in his eye.

“Fuck me. Fuck me and scream my name as you come for me,” she says against his lips.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please,” she amends with a huff. The Doctor looks unconvinced, and she is too anxious for release to play games any longer. She reattempts: “Please fuck me, Doctor,” allowing a little whine to slip into her voice.

The Doctor nods his head, pleased. “Good girl. Look how the tables have turned, you begging for me.”

“I did not—ahh!” She cries out as he buries himself in her suddenly.

He grins devilishly as he slowly withdraws, drawing pleasure from the way her face contorts blissfully. After sliding all the way out except for the tip, he thrusts back in just as unforgivingly as the first time. She jolts, and the Doctor quickly slips a hand behind her head so she doesn’t hit it too hard on the piano. He tangles a hand in her hair, which is coming loose from her usual pinned-up style.

As much as the Doctor wants to get her back for being a tease (not just now, but practically all the time), he also wants to let go and be heedless and furious and become one with his Master again. So after a few more debilitatingly slow pumps of his hips, he sets a rhythm that leaves Missy panting hard. She feels amazing around him, so hot and tight.

Missy reaches down between her legs and strokes her most tender spot, biting her lip to hold herself together as long as she can. The Doctor can tell she’s getting closer and closer, working back up to where he’d had her before. She meets his hips with every thrust. “Oh, yes, fuck yes,” she breathes.

Just then, the Doctor remembers something from the last time they had sex, and decides to try it out. He leans down and begins kissing the delicate skin of her neck. “Mmm,” she utters, encouraging him further. He nips at the skin, then smooths over it soothingly with his tongue. As he repeats this several times, her body arches up higher and higher to meet his. He was correct in remembering that this was consistently one of the Master’s strongest erogenous zones.

He can feel her rubbing herself vigorously beneath him as he continues to pound in and out. “Oh, Theta, I’m gonna—” Her sentence is left hanging in the air as she tightens around him, squeezing his cock almost unbearably tightly. Her hips move up and down erratically as she comes, having lost all control. The way she pulses around him feels so good that the Doctor knows he is going to follow with her. He closes his eyes and resigns himself to release.

But Missy pushes herself back, sliding out from underneath him.

The Doctor’s eyes pop open. Missy chuckles. “What’s fair is fair,” she says, pushing him over. His back slams against the cool surface of the piano. That probably isn’t good for an instrument as nice as this one, but neither of them can find it within themselves to care. She climbs atop him, hovering his above him so that he can feel her radiating heat.

“None of this is remotely close to being fair or right,” the Doctor objects.

“And yet we always end up here. Why might that be?” She slides onto him again, and he hisses in delight. “Oh, that’s right. Because I’m just _so good_.”

Missy begins to ride up and down on top of him, faster than he expected. “Ohh,” he cries, reaching up to cup her breasts and toy with her nipples again.

“Mm, that is even nicer as a woman. Everything’s just so sensitive!” She rolls her hips and adjusts her angle so that he brushes against the ridged bit of her walls every time she sinks down onto him.

“Fuck!” She’s getting close again, and this time the Doctor is determined to come with her. His hands fall away above his head, hanging off the edge of the piano. Her shouts are getting higher and higher, and at last her clit strikes his skin in just the right way and sends her over the edge.

She yanks on a fistful of his hair as she comes again, her vision going blurry. The sharp pain at the back of the Doctor’s head is just what he needs, and he follows her over the edge. He shakes and writhes as he unravels beneath her, emptying himself inside her.

Finally, he takes a deep breath, all his tension evaporating. His eyes flutter closed contentedly. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting ages for that.”

Missy plants a soft kiss on his lips, lingering uncharacteristically long. When she pulls back, she remains close to him. The last thing the Doctor wants is to get all attached to her and her madness. Even so, he can’t help briefly thinking how beautiful she looks as he smooths back her unruly hair and caresses her cheek. He can grow accustomed to this face, this body. In fact, for a second he nearly forgets all the horrible crimes she’s committed, caught up in the notion that being with her is everything he needs.

She slides herself off him, and his body is swept over by another wave of ecstasy. “Might want to rest for a while after that,” Missy suggests. “But if you ever need anything again, you know where to find me. That was just a warmup.” She gets down off the piano and tosses him his jacket.

“That’s it? I’m just supposed to leave now?”

“A girl has other things to do, doesn’t she? Come again another time. Bring dinner and we’ll watch a film or something. Oh, and bring a television too, then.” She makes eye contact with him as she retrieves her corset from the floor, her lean legs still perfectly framed by her sheer stockings, and he’s captivated.

“It’s a date,” he finds himself agreeing. Finds himself giving into whatever she wants.

“Maybe not a date,” she corrects. “Just dinner with your ‘oldest friend in the universe.’ Nothing special.”

“You’re special to me.” The Doctor looks up at the ceiling, savoring the wonderful aftermath of destruction that always accompanies the Master.

“Oh, go on now. Don’t ruin my afterglow with all your feelings. I’ll see you around.”

Somehow, they always end up here.


End file.
